


Looks Like We Made It

by SNAKEHABITATTURNAROUND



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Banter, Bedtime Stories, Fluff, M/M, Miiiild angst, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNAKEHABITATTURNAROUND/pseuds/SNAKEHABITATTURNAROUND
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis settle down for the evening after a recent concert. Nothing really happens apart from disgusting amounts of affection from the Most Affectionate Boy In The World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looks Like We Made It

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiiiii. Here is a thing that came to me set in the not-so-distant past. I do not know. I just do.
> 
> Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are, of course, real people, and this is a work of fiction that has no actual bearing on reality, so forgive me, boys. FORGIVE ME. I know not what I do.

Harry can tell Louis has only been in bed a few minutes when he comes barrelling into his hotel room, belting out a tune as though they hadn't performed a massive set just two hours earlier.

"All I know is you held the door, you'll be mine and I'll be y--"

"Have you lost your mind," hisses Louis, setting aside what Harry's pretty sure is a rider or a schedule or something managerial. He's still slightly ill and cranky. Harry flops down onto the bed, his knees dangling over the edge, and gazes up at his best friend. "Sorry. Just got off the phone with Ed."

"That's not an excuse."

"It's still a good song," says Harry, reaching up to bat at Louis' arm - the untattooed one, the virgin arm.

"She's still a shit person," Louis counters, swatting Harry's hand. In the half light his eyes are dark. But perfect, thinks Harry. Always perfect. Still, he can't help himself.

"All I know is a simple naaaaame --"

Harry finds himself being somewhat smothered with a pillow, and deservedly so. He flails about a bit for show, kicking out wildly until one of his legs makes contact with one of Louis'. The pillow comes away.

"Prat," says Louis, his body curled above Harry's, his face inches away. Harry smirks. "Yeah, but you l--" 

And Louis is kissing him and his brain goes quiet, and Harry wriggles himself up and flips around so he can face Louis properly, pinning him against the headboard for a time.

When they come apart Harry settles with his head in Louis' lap and Louis is stroking his hair, which is his favourite. He closes his eyes. 

"Shania Twain," says Louis thoughtfully, running a finger down Harry's nose and alighting for a brief moment on his lips. Harry nips at it.

"Yeah, she's good."

"But so obvious."

"Obviously what?" Harry sits up, frowning.

"Still the One?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Don't you think --"

"No," Harry says. "Sometimes I'm allowed to tell the truth."

"You say that like I'm this terrible monster, like I'm holding you back from everything."

"That isn't what I just said, Lou. I know what the deal is." He cups the other boy's cheek in his hand, fixing him with a steady gaze. "I've told you a thousand times I don't care what I have to do as long as I get to be with you." At this Louis smiles, a little crookedly. "But if I muck about with every word people will be able to tell, and then none of this --" He waves about the room, meaning the band, the concerts, the fans -- "Will work."

"You like to give yourself to everyone, don't you, Harry Styles," says Louis, taking up both of Harry's hands now and lacing his fingers through them.

"There's lots to give, and I like to share," says Harry solemnly, which prompts a snort of laughter from Louis. "And I didn't say it. Niall did."

Louis gives him a shove and he pantomimes careening over. Physically this shouldn't really be possible, but on a metaphoric level Harry knows it to be true every time. Louis has only to suggest a thing, to think it, and Harry will do it. He kicks off his shoes and wriggles under the covers, snuggling into Louis' side.

"Pants!" protests the older boy.

"If you want it, you do it."

Louis flings the duvet aside dramatically and Harry's gaze shoots over to his boxers, to Louis' stomach and legs and feet that he wants, needs to touch immediately, but Louis is already jimmying down to undo Harry's jeans, tugging them off and flinging them onto the floor.

"Need new jeans, Haz."

Harry makes a noncommittal grunt, because never, and wrestles Louis onto his back, kissing his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, running his hands down his chest and briefly, teasingly across Louis' dick. Louis groans and responds in kind, all the while muttering "Nooooo," and "Too tiiiiired, Haz." Harry plants one final kiss just above Louis' bellybutton with a wet smack, then reaches over to turn off the bedside light. When he falls back unceremoniously he envelopes Louis in a hug, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

"Better," says Louis, relaxing into Harry. He feels a set of cold toes against his own and throws a leg over Louis and this is it, he is done, done, done for the day.

"She invited me to a show, you know," Harry says conversationally, not yet very sleepy.

"Who did?" The response is immediate, and a little jealous.

"Shania."

"Oh." Louis snickers. "I know. I was there when she tweeted at you, twat. And she invited all of us. You didn't shut up about it."

"Because it's Shania Twain! She's a big deal!"

"Haz, I don't know if you're aware of this, but you're a bit of a big deal yourself."

"Yes. In the penis."

"THAT DON'T IMPRESS-A ME MUCH!"

"I beg to differ," says Harry, grinding into Louis' dumb perfect perfect bum.

"Shut up or I'll never be able to sleep, you hooligan."

"Love you love you love you love you love you," whispers Harry, and he can feel Louis smile in the dark. "Love you more, you giant Taylor Swift tosser," comes the response, and that's the end of that.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking for one more obnoxious Tumblr authored by someone old enough to know better, mine can be found at [destructomax](http://destructomax.tumblr.com/).


End file.
